


Swaying into the Night

by BinturongScratches



Series: A Moomins Childhood AU [2]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime 1990)
Genre: Childhood Friends AU, Cuddles, F/F, M/M, Other, Wedding, Wedding Fluff, Wedding dancing, Weddings, a bit of party drinking, cute dancing, everyone is an adult in this, most of the other people are mentioned, no underage drinking here, only the boys speak though, their being silly, wedding party
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-05
Updated: 2020-01-05
Packaged: 2021-02-18 22:54:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22134499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BinturongScratches/pseuds/BinturongScratches
Summary: After the girl’s wedding, Snufkin finds himself looking for company for the party...
Relationships: Mumintrollet | Moomintroll & Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Mumintrollet | Moomintroll/Snusmumriken | Snufkin, Snorkfroken | The Snorkmaiden/ Alicia, Snorkfroken | The Snorkmaiden/Alisa | Alicia (Mumintroll)
Series: A Moomins Childhood AU [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1511315
Comments: 7
Kudos: 29





	Swaying into the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Set roughly a month before “A night of new beginnings?”
> 
> Just an excuse for cute stuff. And world building :3
> 
> Enjoy!

Snufkin found a place to dispose of his glass before turning back around. 

He felt warm and slightly giggly; he was nowhere near as drunk as some of the party’s other guests, stumbling over themselves as they enjoyed the festivities. 

He’d only just returned in the last half an hour, a glass of something sweet being shoved into his paw by a overindulged Snork. 

Shrugging, he’d chugged it without much thought and promptly been poured more. 

It had taken a few attempts to sneak away but after small chaos by his nearby siblings, Snufkin soon was scanning the party. 

Immediately, he found Snorkmaiden and Alicia were standing nearby, arms wrapped around each other and chatting with their wedding guests. 

Snorkmaiden’s normally blonde fluff had changed to a soft pink, and was decorated with various flowers, her veil wrapped around her shoulders in a delicate shawl. 

Alicia’s short auburn hair was similarly decorated, though with darker flowers; her dress consisting of dark purples, but with her trademark pink necklace contrasting vividly. Snufkin briefly wondered what arguments she’d had with her Grandmother over the wedding.

Currently, the pair were chatting with Sniff, who wielded the Bouquet, which had landed on him at the parties start. 

He was nervously eyeing the Bouquet in his paws, which appeared to be making The Brides giggle. 

Alicia looked up in time to meet to Snufkin’s gaze, a wide mischievous grin on her face. He laughed, tipping his hat brim a little in response. 

Unfortunately, his hat tipped further then he expected, making him growl a little as he attempted to correct it. 

In hindsight, maybe allowing people to decorate his hat with spare boutonnières had been a bad idea; the weight causing him to continually readjust it. 

Satisfied it would stay in place a little longer, he looked up, searching around for another familiar face to attach to. 

The Moomin parents were dancing together lovingly nearby, Little My was tying tails underneath a table cloth, Mym and Too-Ticky chatting with The Muddler and Fuzzy. 

His mother had apparently attached herself to Alicia’s disgruntled Grandmother, leaving his siblings to terrorise other partygoers like Ms Fillyjonk and Muskrat without consequence. Snufkin felt himself smile. 

A loud familiar laugh drew his attention, turning to find Moomin giggling with Snork. The Troll turned, bright eyes catching his gaze as he waved cheerily. 

A silly warm smile spread as Moomin detangled himself and staggered over as the music changed and people brushed past to dance. 

“Hello Dear,” smiled Snufkin, “Enjoying the party?” 

“Very much so,” slurred Moomin, leaning on a table. 

The Troll’s blue bow tie wasn’t straight anymore, and the various flowers decorating his fur were in various stages of falling out. 

“You certainly seem to be,” laughed the Mumrik, reaching over to adjust a flower hanging off his ear. 

Moomin giggled, ears wiggling at the touch, “Did you stay for the ceremony Snuf?” 

“I did, how could I miss it? I couldn’t turn the invitation down; the girls certainly looked happy.”

“They are, aren’t they?” Smiled the Troll, turning to watch them, the two laughing at something Little My was clearly terrorising Sniff about. 

Also, watching you be Snorkmaiden’s Maid of Honour? That’s quite the break in tradition, dear. That must have caused a few turned heads.” 

A shrill squawk from what could only be Ms Fillyjonk made them both jump, a grumpy sigh escaping the Troll, whom didn’t bother turning to face the kerfufful. 

“She really didn’t need to cause such a fuss, this the girls wedding, not hers....” 

“Quite right,” nodded Snufkin, pushing his hat back up, “Regardless, I thought you did quite well. I know Snorkmaiden was grateful.” 

Moomin’s smile returned, cheeks glowing softly in delight. This made Snufkin smile, before raising an eyebrow as the Troll’s smile become naughty. 

“But I must admit, the reaction to her finding out Little My was the Best-man was so much better.” 

Snufkin snorted, “Half the valley heard that. She made me lose my fish by screeching so loud. I thought a harpy landed in the valley.” 

This made Moomin laugh, clutching his snout with his tail wagging frantically. 

“My did very well though, don’t you think?” 

“Yeah, despite Ms Fillyjonk’s many jabs. Her insistence on waving the fact at Ms Fillyjonk whenever she could was certainly like her.”

“Do you really blame her?” 

“Oh no,” smiled Snufkin, “Watching Fillyjonk bite back a comment back every time in fear of losing her invitation? Hardly. I know Alicia certainly found it funny.”

The music seemed to change to something slower, Moomin twitching and reaching forward, making Snufkin tilt playfully. 

“Wanna dance, Snuf?” 

Snufkin looked playfully considering, before taking the paw. “Sure.” 

Moomin beamed, staggering back as he pulled the Mumrik onto the dance floor. Snufkin held Moomin up gently,allowing him to hold him. 

They swayed gently, leaning into each other, as Moomin pressed his face into Snufkin’s shoulder. Snufkin purred, nuzzling into the warm fur. 

Moomin shifted, snout moving to rest on Snufkin’s shoulder. He mumbled a bit, but Snufkin strained to hear and stumble a bit. “Hm? What was that, Moomintroll?” 

Moomin tried again but to no avail. “Dear, I-“ 

Moomin’s snout rose up decisively, brushing the Mumrik’s ear gently, making Snufkin shudder. “Snuf, I’m so drunk I can’t dance...” 

Snufkin blinked owlishly for a moment, almost as if he couldn’t process it. Suddenly, a warm feeling of mirth spread and he snorted loudly, clapping a paw to his mouth to contain it. 

Moomin pulled back to stare, jaw dropped and aghast. The look mutated into a visible pout; which in turn made Snufkin giggle harder. 

“Snuf your a meanie!” Moomin hiccuped, pushing at him and taking a step back. 

However, Snufkin shook his head, reaching forward to wrap his arms around the Troll to keep him close. “No no no, I’m sorry, please stay, am sorry please-“ 

Moomin growled a bit but grudging hugged back, pressing his snout to Snufkin’s chest as Snufkin nuzzled, still shivering a bit. “...Meanie”. 

“I’m sorry, I wasn’t laughing at you, I promise,” smiled Snufkin. 

Moomin tilted his face to stare, clearly not believing him. 

Snufkin’s grin was wide, hugging the Troll close and humming softly with the music. Moomin’s annoyed frame slowly settled, sighing and swaying with little motions. 

They settled into quiet dancing, tightly pressed together, seemingly unaware of what was going on around them. 

Snufkin wasn’t sure how long they danced for. In fact, he wasn’t really aware of much after awhile. 

He vaguely realised Little My was tugging insistently on his paw, dragging him back to his tent, Moomin hanging off his shoulder. 

Vague mentions of a sleepover, which received protests. Vaguer disagreements about water and a lot of pouting. 

But the only certainty Snufkin remembered was being in his tent and warm, something pressed to his back and wrapped around his waist. 

He felt content. 

However, when he woke next he wasn’t content and certainly not warm; in fact he was uncomfortably chilled, with his head throbbing. 

Any later memories of the night were chased away as Snufkin forced himself to sit up with a groan. 

The Mumrik stared for a moment, puzzled over the lack of his normal blanket, which was screwed up by his feet. 

How odd. 

He shivered, looking around the tent for the source of the cold. Shaking his head a little, trying to clear the cobwebs, he finally located it: the tent zip wasn’t fully done up, letting in the morning air. 

Snufkin frowned, that wasn’t like him. 

Leaning up, he quickly adjusted the zip before settling back down. 

He looked around again, he noticed his mug was full of water and close to his head. He briefly wondered when he had brought it in, but swallowed it down gratefully. 

Sighing a little, he felt tired again, reasoning it was still too early, even for him. 

Placing the mug down again and hoisting his blanket back up, he settled back down, willing his head to stop throbbing. 

He couldn’t shake the feeling he was forgetting something. 

But nothing came to mind; not for long at least. 

Snufkin felt drowsy again, rolling onto his side, trying to consider why he suddenly felt lonely in his tent. 

It didn’t make sense. This was his tent. 

Anymore thoughts were pushed to the back of his mind as he dozed off again. 

He’d think about it later.


End file.
